


Where is Our God Now?

by Mouse (clandestineAbattoir)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amélie is just a civillian basically, F/F, Talon!Tracer, This is weird, basically tracer become widowmaker instead of Amélie, but he got assassinated some other way that isn't mentioned explicitly, gerard still worked for overwatched, literally i have no idea what the fuck Somra's doing anymore, tracer is just slightly more of a psychopath than normal, tracer's kind of a yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clandestineAbattoir/pseuds/Mouse
Summary: Lena Oxton has been compromised, turned into a ruthless killing machine by the very organization that murdered Amélie's husband. Now the widow is left to heal in a hellish aftermath.





	1. Chapter 1

This was bad.

This was bad, so crazy bad that it made Amélie’s blood freeze, her head buzzing in muted, distant panic. 

“Lena’s  _ what?” _ she hissed out, looking Angela in the eyes, searching for a sign, anything, that this was all just a cruel joke, that what the doctor had told her wasn’t real. 

“She has been compromised,” Angela repeated patiently, eyes sad, “she killed her girlfriend before running off. We believe she has been taken in by talon.”

“We? Whos is this  _ we _ you speak of? Overwatch? Yourself? Who, Angela, tell me  _ who is involved.” _

Angela winced at the biting tone of Amélie’s panicked voice. 

“Winston was the first. One by one the rest of us slowly realized it couldn’t be anything else. We did not want to tell you because we thought that maybe if she could keep you as part of her life she would retain the part of her that was left, but now I see this was inevitable. I am sorry, Amélie,” Angela admitted, looking down at her hands.

Amélie blinke, letting the words settle over her, sinking into her brain. She had known something was off about her friend, but she never imagined it was something like  _ this. _

“How did I not see it before...” she mumbled to nobody in particular. 

“Lena has always been good at acting. Most of us didn’t notice until it was too late.”

Amélie couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at that as she fought tears.

“She was a theatre major, Angela. Of course she was good,” she made a watery attempt to joke. If she didn’t she probably would have started crying.

Angela’s lips quirked up a little at that.

“Yes, I had forgotten about that,” she said, looking to the dull wall, “She should have gone into acting.”

Once the words had died on the blonde’s lips; and awkward, pregnant silence filled the air. Neither of them had nothing left to say, it seemed. Or, neither of them wanted to say anything. 

Amélie looked at Angela. The older woman was avoiding her gaze, blue eyes still trained on the wall. The silence was suffocating, and Amélie wondered if Angela was having as much trouble breathing as she was. 

“Would you like some tea?” Angela asked, breaking the silence tentatively.

The question caught the french woman off guard for a second. She hadn't expected Angela to ask something so simple.

“I-- yes, please,” she mumbled politely. 

Angela nodded, getting up from the uncomfortable orange leather chair she had been perched upon.

“Wait here, I will bring you some,” she said, exiting the small room, which left it empty, save for Amélie.

She was alone with her thoughts, which swirled and buzzed inside her cranium desperately as she went over the situation once again. 

Lena, her best friend and possible love interest, not to mention the only moral support she had after the mysterious death of her husband, had been compromised by talon, the terrorist organization that claimed responsibility for said mysterious death. And now Amélie was here, left to deal with the aftershocks of it herself, because she had been too infatuated and naive to notice it.

She was ripped from her mental summarizations when she heard twin gunshots go off, nearby, and a dull thud of a body hitting the floor. Without thinking, she stuck her head of the door and-- it was Lena. She was standing there, in the flesh, two black pistols in her hand. 

But wasn’t really Lena. 

Lena’s skin wasn't a pastel shade of baby blue. Lena’s hair wasn’t black, and her eyes weren't dead and cold. Lena’s Jacket wasn’t black with purple accents on the coffs where her sleeves were turned halfway. 

Lena would never have killed Angela. 

Amélie’s heart raced as she saw the rapidly spreading pool of blood underneath Angela’s head. She couldn’t believe this, she was frozen in the doorway, eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. Lena-- or some iteration of what had been Lena-- stood above the medics corpse, grinning unsettlingly, her eyes glowing the same blue as her chronal accelerator, which was noticeably absent, once did. Her familiar pistols were clutched in her hands. She hadn’t noticed Amélie’s shocked staring yet, which was surprising. She was an easy kill, just standing there.

In a cruel cue that made it seem that the (former?) overwatch agent was reading her thoughts, Lena looked up, catching Amélie’s terrified eyes.

“Hello, luv,” she chirped out falsely, standing up straight and letting her hands hand at her sides, pistols pointing down as she took a step towards Amélie, “whatcha lookin’ at?”

She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. The shock and the tears she hadn’t even noticed closed her throat, cutting off the sound. 

Lena tilted her head, almost like she didn’t quite understand why Amélie was crying as she walked towards her. Her heart skipped a beat in sheer terror as the brit put one of her pistols away and touched a cold hand to her cheek, wiping a tear away in a gesture that would seem tender if the circumstances were different. 

“Don’t cry, Amé, it's just me,” Lena said in a way that made Amélie’s heart skip another beat. At this rate she would die of heart failure before Lena could kill her.

“No, you are changed, Lena...” she said, barely above a whisper. 

“I’m better now, luv. I don’t have to worry about feeling guilty after missions anymore. And no more chronal accelerator either!” she pointed to her chest proudly.

“But you are not... you, Lena. You killed your girlfriend and another close friend...” she tried to reason. 

Lena’s blue lips turned down into a frown. 

“C’mon, Amélie, it’s not that bad! It’s for the greater good!” Lena pleaded.

“The greater good?” Amélie laughed bitterly, less shocked and more angry now, “Lena, this was your entire life, you loved it more than anything. What you are doing now, the killing of  _ innocent people _ , that is not the greater good. That is carnage and chaos.”

Lena sighed, “I was worried you’d think that. I was gonna take you with me, and we could have been happy together, you and me, Amé!”

She blinked at Lena, unbelievingly. There was a time where she would have given anything for something like this, for Lena to want her back, but this was not the Lena she wanted. The Lena she wanted was not a killer. 

“I am sorry Lena, but no. I will not go with you. Not when you’re like this,” she told her, her pulse quickening in anticipation of an untimely death. To her surprise, Lena simply stepped back.

“I’ll ask again next time, then,” she said before her eyes glowed intensley and she warped out a window.

Amélie was already dreading next time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> literally this is basically just a filler chapter.

The week after Angela’s death had been hard. The agents were still reeling from the shock of losing Lena, and the death of the beloved doctor had blanketed the entire building in thick mourning. 

Amélie was sitting in one of the faculty lounges quietly, just as she always was. Nobody objected to her presence anymore. But nobody seemed to really acknowledge it, either, and she wasn’t sure if she was grateful to be left alone or offended that she was being ignored. For now, she chose to be grateful. The Overwatch agents all had their own lives, and none of them included her. She could respect that. She sipped her tea quietly, watching the agents all come and go. They were kind of a blur to the French woman, at this point. 

An unexpected change came when the couch sank next to her as someone sat down. She looked over, and it was a woman she didn’t recognize, and she was immediately suspicious. All of the Overwatch faculty generally stuck with their particular faculty lounge. Rarely did they decide to use another. It was a bit like church, in that regard. 

She looked this strange now woman over. Her clothes were odd to Amélie. They weren't as sleek or lightly coloured as most of the Overwatch Agents she’d encountered; just another thing to add to the growing mountain of suspicious that was building in her stomach.

“Amélie Lacroix,” the woman began in an accented voice, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve been looking for you for a while.”

“Why?” Amélie said quickly, her eyes darting towards the door to the faculty lounge as she silently begged for someone to come in and... do  _ something _ . 

“Well... I’m not exactly looking for myself, let's just say I’m doing a favor for a friend,” she looked at her purple taloned fingers as she spoke. 

“And who would that friend be?” she narrowed her eyes, clutching her mug tightly in he hands, he voice cautious and steady.

“Mm. I could tell you, but then I wouldn’t be able to make a friend. I’m also here to make friends,” the latina smiled at Amélie. 

She blinked at the woman. Friends? What the hell was her deal. 

“How did you even get into the building without setting off at least three alarms?” she asked, not really wondering, more just trying to stall her probably inevitable death. 

This made the woman in the purple coat smile widely.

“Oohoho, you pick up on things quickly. Good for you, I can see why she likes you~” she looked at Amélie, seeming to be scanning her face for something.

Wait, who was this “she”-- It was Lena.

Her realization must have showed on her face, as the strange woman laughed again.

“Noow you’re getting it,” she said. 

“Tell Lena I’m not going with her, no matter what she says,” Amélie said, voice unwavering.

The woman sitting across from her made a noise of discontempt.

“I knew you would say that. But Tracer seems  _ convinced _ that having a different person ask you would help. What her obsession with you is, I don’t get. You her girlfriend or something?” 

The question caught Amélie off guard, and even after all that had happened, she found a blush spreading across her features, piquing the interest of the other.

“Holy shit, did Tracer have a girlfriend that I didn’t know about?” Her eyebrows raised in shock.

“N-non, it’s... not like that. It never was like that,” Amélie crossed her arms, saying the last part much stronger than the first as she regained her composure.

“You have a crush on her then? That- that’s even better better oh my god,” the other woman seemed to be struggling to hide laughter. 

“I used to,” she mumbled, sinking into the canvas couch. Why was all the furniture in this damn place  _ orange _ ?

“From the way you reacted just now you still do, Amé,” she pointed out.

The use of Lena’s familiar pet name made her blood boil.

“You do not get to call me that.”

“Aw, but we’re friends now, though,” the purplette rolled over on the couch closer to her.

“No, we are not ‘ _ friends’ _ ,” she spat out, “if I screamed for help right now you could get killed.”

“No, I really couldn't,” she waved a hand and... disappeared? What the hell?

She reappeared again seconds later, a few feet away from the couch.

“Neat trick, huh?” she said, sitting on the table. 

Amélie sighed. 

“Why are you still here? I already told you I am not going with Lena,” she pointed out. The woman really had no reason to be here anymore. 

“I toooold you, I want to make a friend,” she said, resting her elbows on her knees and her hands on her chin.

“And why should I be friends with you?” she asked, sitting up and crossing her legs.

“Because--”

“Sombra, are you almost done? What did she say?” a familiar british voice sounded off from the woman’s comm.

Sombra rolled her eyes and spoke to the comm, “Be patient Tracer, she just needs a little more convincing,” she said.

“Well convince her  _ faster,” _ came the impatient reply. At least that hadn’t changed about Lena. The impatience.

Sombra just rolled her eyes and turned off her comm.

“As I was saying, you should be my friend because I can protect Tracer from being fully brainwashed by talon.”

“You’re bluffing,” Amélie said, looking at her apprehensively.

She sighed, “Of course you say that. Listen if I can't fully protect Tracer’s mind, which I can by the way, I’ll at least protect her body. All you have to do is help me out sometimes. Get me some information~” she said, “Do we have a deal?”

Amélie considered it for a moment. Protection for what was left of Lena in exchange for information. It didn't seem... too hard. 

“What type of information?”

“The type that I can’t find on computers. Rumours, gossip. The stuff that when put in the wrong hands, can ruin people’s lives,” Sombra said.

Amélie frowned. 

“And why would I help you ruin the lives of the people I care about?” she asked.

“Oh, I won't use it until I need it, I promise,” she spread her fingers out, hand put up in an almost-surrender. 

“So, tell me, Amélie, do I have a new friend, or no?”

“... Fine. It’s nice to finally have a new... friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The use of purplette is ironic I swear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amélie has an Evening™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no proofreading we let everyone see our typos like men

The next time Amélie ran into Lena was at the supermarket.

She was pushing her shopping cart along, looking for the wine section. She could use a bottle. Or two, quite frankly. She was in front of the cereal aisle when she spotted a blur of blue streaking past her, and her breath caught in her throat. 

_ Oh no _ .

She turned towards where the steak had gone, and sure enough, it was tracer, hiding behind the produce. Why was she here, of all places for a brainwashed assassin to be on a Thursday evening?

She kept her distance, watching the blue skinned Lena, following they way her un was pointed and--  _ BANG. _ Screaming erupted from the customers as a body hit the floor. It was someone Amélie only vaguely recognized. An overwatch worker. Of course. She could only watch in horror at the blood that spilled onto the tiles. Just like Angela. 

Lena, of course, noticed Amélie’s staring. She always noticed Amélie’s staring. 

The brit grinned the creepy way that she grinned before zooming over to Amélie.

“Hello luv,” she greeted, “fancy seeing you here.” 

Amélie stared at Lena. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Lena was still so cheerful after murdering one of her... former friends. 

“Aw, still not up for talkin all that much? That’s fine, I can be patient!” Lena told the befuddled Amélie.

The french woman didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even want to particularly say anything. She just grabbed her purse from her shopping car and ran as security came to try and catch Lena. She could hear their frustrated noises in the background as the talon agent simply warped away, hot on Amélie’s heels as the latter woman made a frustrated yell. She just wanted Lena  _ away from her _ . She ran from the store and started heading for her car, but was intercepted by Lena.

“Aw c’mon Amé, stop ignoring me! It’s not fair!” she pleaded.

“Lena, or whoever you are,” she spat, “if you really ‘love’ as much as you seem to be pretending to,” she ignored the offended stare she received from Lena, “then you will  _ leave _ .”

She stood her ground, eyes unwavering as the stared at the glowing blue ones of Lena, tinted purple by the red of her goggles. 

“Amélie,” Lena reached her hand out.

“No. Lena, you are not truly you anymore. You are some sort of machine that thinks she loves me because it's the only part of her she can remember. And I want you to leave me alone. It’s bad enough that I have to mourn the loss of you. But you keep popping up and reopening the wound, and i can't take it anymore. Goodbye. Do not try to find me again.”

Lena’s eyes went from a glossy semblance of shocked and hurt to a bright, burning anger,her eyebrows furrowing as she let out a huff of air into the evening air. 

“Alright? You want me gone? Fine. Don’t expect my protection from talon anymore, then,” she told her.

Amélie’s heart skipped a beat. _ What _ . 

She shook it off as Lena warped away. She was just trying to scare her, is all. Trying to make her change her mind. But she wouldn’t. She was going to keep her decision.

She got into her car and drove home, unlocking the door and opening it tiredly. She stepped inside and-- oh fuck no not again. 

Sombra was sitting on her couch, scrolling through the internet lazily.

“Nice place you got,” she commented. 

“Sombra. Why are you here?” she asked, immediately on the defensive. 

“Relax I’m not going to kill you if that’s what you’re thinking,” she assured Amélie, sitting up, “I’m just checking in on you.”

She crossed her arms, not believing a word of it. Talon agents, especially ones like Sombra, always had deeper motivations than that. 

“You really catch on quickly, don’t you?” Sombra said, looking at the stiff posture Amélie had taken on. 

“Why are you here, Sombra?” she repeated.

“Oooh, well, just because I’m doing another favor for my friend~”

“Why are you doing Lena so many favors?” she raised an eyebrow.

“She’s bailed me out of some sticky situations, what can I say? She’s pretty fast,” Sombra said, standing up, “anyway, you have something of hers that she didn’t have time to come get herself, and she wants it back. She told me you’d know what she was talking about.”

Amélie sighed. The locket. Lena had given it to her a few days before this whole mess. ‘For safekeeping,’ she had told Amélie. It was a picture of both of them, back when Lena was still Lena and Amélie hadn’t lost everyone dear to her. 

She hesitated, biting her lip before taking a deep breath and unclasping the locket from around her neck, pulling out from under her shirt. Sombra held put her hand for it and she hesitated again.

“Is the picture in there really that important?” Sombra raised an eyebrow at Amélie questioningly. 

“I--,” she thought back to all the times she and Lena had shared, and was tempted to say yes before those memories were tainted with the vivid ones of the murders Lena had already committed, steeling her resolve and pulling her lips into a frown, “not anymore.”

She dropped the locket into Sombra’s hand, and the other woman pocketed it.

“See you later, Amélie,” she disappeared with a wave of purple, and Amélied flopped onto her couch, already exhausted. She vaguely realized she had forgotten to get wine, but she also realized she really didn’t care.

She was halfway asleep on the couch when a noise from the kitchen vaguely registered, but went ignored, in her half-conscious brain. She was way too tired to be paranoid. 

The noise, that she later realized must have been a window opening, was replaced by near silent footsteps, and then the cocking of a gun that hOLY SHIT THAT WAS RIGHT NEXT TO HER.

She sat up suddenly, pushing the hair out of her face to get a better view. It was a man cloaked in black with a skull mask that happened to be pointing a gun right at her forehead. Wasting no time, she scrambled to get of the way, but that proved to be of no use, because she quickly discovered he could just catch up with her using a whiff of shadows. Could all talon agents teleport? Because the ones she’d encountered could give Symmetra a run for her money.

“Time to die, die, die,” the intruder said hoarsely, and through her terror Amélie thought that the three ‘die’s were a bit extra. 

She kept moving through the house, trying to make it to the balcony, she could escape through there. She moved into the hallway, desperately searching for  _ something _ she could defend herself with. The man methodically moved in front of all Amélies possible before lunging at her with both of his guns aimed at her. She wasn't sure why, and she never would quite figure it out, but in her panic, she screamed out for Lena.

A few, tense, terrifying seconds, during which Amélie was once again preparing for death later, there was a crash through a nearby window, and suddenly, the would-be murderer of Amélie was on the floor unconscious, and Lena stood behind him, eyes glowing.

“I didn’t think he would try again this soon,” she said, looking down at the body, “also, why did you call  _ my _ name. I thought you never wanted to see me again?” Lena looked at Amélie.

The older woman just stared at Lena in disbelief. 

“I-- you-- he--... How the hell did you have that great of timing?” was the first question out of her mouth.

“I... couldn’t resist checking on you...” she admitted, shrugging, “glad I did though... Seems like I was right on time!” 

Amélie put her head in her hands, exhaling deeply. These past few weeks had been entirely too surreal.

“Next question. WHY IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME?” she gestured aggressively at the man’s unconscious form.

“We’re all trying to kill off Overwatch one-by-one and he counts you as part of the organization...” she rubbed the back of her neck, “he thinks that’s why you keep refusing me. Personally I think you’re just being stubborn,” she rambled.

Amélie cut her off, “I’m refusing you because you keep muRDERING MY FRIENDS.”

Lena seemed to consider this for a second.

“Really, I don't see that much of a problem with it. I’m just doing my job. But maybe I can cut back? Stick to only killing people you’re not close to for now?” she concluded. 

Amélie was... admittedly kind of flattered at Lena’s attempt at a compromise, as fucked up as it was. And Lena seemed so hopeful.

“C’mon, Amé, give me a chance!” she pleaded. 

Amélie considered her options. Refuse, and deal with more assassination attempts, and a chance of Lena killing more people that Amélie was close to but keep her standards intact and keep her promise to herself, or say yes and get with the closest thing to the woman she loved that she was ever going to get again, and possibly be able to protect her friends from Lena, but throw her own ethics out of the window. It was a tough decision but in the end, the safety of everyone involved won out.

“Fine, I’ll give you a chance.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie ponders some things, and Lena reveals some things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would anyone be interested in betaing this because right now it is just me and my caffiene-driven ass checking this for spelling mistakes

Dealing with Lena was... a lot less difficult than Amélie had been expecting, somehow. She usually off on some odd missions that Talon had assigned her. Like tonight.

Amélie was lazing on the couch, sipping a glass of wine. She had recently picked up a job as a substitute teacher, which left her a lot of spare time. It was a Friday night, and Lena was usually out late on Fridays. So she spent that time relaxing.

She got up from the couch, deciding to make some dinner. She headed towards the kitchen, glass of wine in hand, she set it down on the counter as she searched the fridge, looking for inspiration for something to make. There was some leftover shrimp that was probably on the verge of spoilage, so she might want to use that. She remembered buying some fettuccine noodles the other day when she went shopping. She looked in the cabinet to see if there was any alfredo sauce, and lo and behold, there was. Sweet. 

She got out a large pot for the pasta, and a saucepan for the other ingredients, putting some water in the pot to boil as she took another sip of wine, getting out the noodles and as she waited for the water to boil, staring at the black backsplash of the kitchen.

Amélie jumped when she heard the kitchen window slide open, reaching for the nearest sharp object out of pure instinct. The blue skinned woman climbing through raised her hands in defense. 

“Hey, it’s just me luv,” she said, swinging her other leg in the window and stepping in. 

“I gave you a key for a reason, Lena,” Amélie snapped. Why did this woman feel the need to climb in through the window every damn time she came over?

“Eh, windows more of a thrill. Don’t really got that much anymore,” she admitted, shrugging innocently.

Amélie’s eyebrows raised as she put her knife down, “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

Lena looked puzzled for a second, she was trying to figure out how to explain the concept to Amélie.

“It’s... A bit add, I’ll admit, but I just don’t really  _ feel _ things anymore. Like, I’ll do something that I would have appalled me a few months ago and I won’t care, which is a bit of a good thing when your job is murdering you former coworkers, but it’s a bit of an annoyance when I try to entertain myself. Because you make me feel things, killing makes me feel things, well, a thing, actually--”

“And what would that be?” Amélie interrupted cautiously.

“Satisfaction,” the younger woman shrugged it off, “but yeah. Climbing through your window gives me bit of a thrill, so that’s why I do it.”

Amélie just stared at Lena. Did she really not feel anything? The very concept seemed horrifying to the french woman. 

“So you felt... satisfaction when you... killed...” Amélie trailed off, terrified of her answer.

“Emily? I... No? Looking back on it I didn’t really feel anything when I killed EMily. Was probably still in shock from the operation.”

“Operation?” Amélie pried. Maybe if she could find out what they did to Lena she could figure out how to reverse it.

“I’m not allowed to talk about it. But it's what made me the way I am now. It helped me lot!” she smiled, and Amélie’s heart sank. So close.

“Oh! The water’s boiling, Amé,” Lena pointed to the pot of boiling water behind Amélie.

She looked behind her and sure enough, the pot had begun to boil. 

“I’m making fettuccine alfredo with shrimp. Would you like some?” she asked. She had enough to make exactly two servings, so why not give some to Lena?

“I’d love some!” she said, smiling tiredly at Amélie. 

She nodded, adding two handfuls of pasta to the boiling water and starting to heat the shrimp and alfredo sauce as Lena sat on the counter, , setting her guns down beside her. 

“No guns in the kitchen,” Amélie muttered, half-jokingly.

Lena rolled her eyes and warped to the other room, probably to put her guns away and apparently get comfortable, seeing as she warped back in a simple black tank top as opposed of her usual black and purple jacket. 

Pushing her goggles on top of her head, she sat back on the counter, twiddling her pale blue thumbs idly as Amélie made dinner. It was moments like these were the French woman could almost forget that Lena wasn’t quite Lena anymore. Moments like these were easy, and Amélie saw the woman she had fallen in love with a little more in the glowing blue eyes of Lena.

After she finished making dinner, she asked Lena to grab two plates from the cabinet, and the black haired woman obliged, grabbing two plated and setting them on the counter where she had previously been sitting. Amélie drained the pasta and divided it up between the two plates, bringing them over to the small table at the other end of the kitchen. Lena brought over silverware and the pair sat down to eat. 

“It tastes very good,” Lena mumbled, staring at it in a way that kind of weirded Amélie out.

“Do you... Not like it?” she asked softly. She wouldn't be offended, she really just heated it up.

“No! I mean... I.. don't know...” she stared at her pasta dejectedly.

Amélie looked at Lena curiously. She had admitted to not being able to feel emotion save for a few occasions. Perhaps that lack of feeling had spread to her other senses as well.

“You can’t taste it, can you?” she asked.

Lena shook her head.

“Can’t taste anything, really. Temperature all feels the same too. I’m always slightly too cold for comfort,” she explained. 

Amélie frowned. 

“That sounds like a rather unpleasant way to exist,” she observed.

Lena nodded, “It's tolerable, most of time though.”

The women finished their meals in silence, and Amélie cleared away their dishes and washed them in the sink, halfway expecting Lena to warp to the other room to grab her stuff and leave out the window and go... wherever she went when she wasn’t in Amélie’s house. She was not expecting the talon agent to make a sort of odd noise in the back of her throat to catch her attention, but she turned towards her anyway.

“Hey Amé,” Lena said, rubbing the back of her neck, “d’ya think I could stay here tonight? Like not even in you bedroom I could sleep on the couch if you really wanted me too, I just... would rather stay here tonight is all,” she rambled on. 

Amélie considered it. She really saw no harm in letting Lena stay the night. If talon was following her, they would have struck by now, seeing as Lena was weaponless and Amélie had her guard down. 

“Alright, sure... And... no need to sleep on the couch. I’m sure the bed is more comfortable. And probably safer for both of us, no?”

Lena’s eyes glowed brightly, “really?”

Amélie smiled at Lena and nodded. The shorter woman warped over and hugged Amélie.

“Thank you luv!”

The two got ready for bed, which for Lena just involved stealing an extra toothbrush that Amélie had lying about somewhere and brushing her teeth, and layed in bed. 

Lena ended up falling asleep long before Amélie did, subconsciously wrapping her limbs around her... Lover? Amélie wasn’t quite sure what Lena classified them as. She didn't really classify them as anything. Lena was just kind of a part of her life now. She stayed awake pondering this until sleep eventually took her, leaving her with nothing but the sensation of Lena’s cool body pressed up against hers and her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making this up as I go along can you tell? Also woohoo character development.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie has a rough day

Sometimes Amélie really hated children.

She was sitting at the absent teacher’s desk, rubbing her temples as the unruly eleven year olds screamed and threw paper airplanes about the classroom, math worksheets on the desk ignored after the first problem or so. Sure, a few kids sat in the corner of the classroom working together on the worksheet amongst all the chaos, and she’d be sure to talk them up to the teacher in the very strongly worded note she was gonna leave, but for the most part this was her version of hell.

The obnoxious sound of a fire alarm going off startled Amélie out of her thoughts. Oh lovely. Fire drill. 

She stood, shouting to be heard above the chaotic students.

“Two separate lines, children! Be quiet and go outside in an orderly fashion!”

The kids did go down the stairs pretty orderly, she’d give them that. Quiet, not so much. She led them outside slowly, finding a place and counting them off one-by-one. 

Wait. There were twenty-three kids on her roster and there were only twenty-two here. She may have mildly freaked out when a child tugged on her sleeve, but she ignored the panicked feeling long enough to follow the child’s pointing finger only to freak out even more when it discovered that there was a child on the roof of the second floor gym, which jutted out onto the concrete. How the hell they had even gotten up there, or why, was beyond Amélie, but she knew she was probably gonna get fired for this. 

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” she heard one of the teachers nearby say when they noticed the child, before they looked over at Amélie, “do you know how that happened?”

Amélie shook her head, “No idea,” she said. 

Both teacher and substitute looked up when a faint whirring sound could be heard. Something small and blue was flying overhead. Oh, it was an Overwatch agent, Amélie realized. The overwatch agent flew down and, noticing the child, who had begun to cry, stuck on the roof, retrieved them, and was fixing to deliver them safely to the ground when gunshots rang out from nearby trees, hitting both Pharah and the child. The blue armor clad agent did her best to protect the small child, but was unsuccessful as the black cloaked man that had tried to kill Amélie about a month ago crept like an edgy fog out of the trees, shooting and dropping guns as he went, killing both of them mercilessly. The sound of police sirens only barely registered as she autonomously herded the children away from the site along with the rest of the teachers so that the police could try to take down the rogue talon agent. They would probably be too late, Amélie realized with a turn of her gut. The police were always too late.

  
  


Amélie stumbled into her dark home, exhaustedly putting her bag down on the couch. All day she had been talking. To police, to people, to parents. It was really bullshit. 

She flopped on the couch next to her bag, not bothering to turn on the lights, or even take off her shoes. She was just too damn tired. 

Vaguely, she wondered what the point was. Of all this. Of all the killing and fighting. Neither side was accomplishing anything, other than adding to the body count. At least she knew  _ why _ Lena did it. Lena did it because it made her feel better. She didn’t get why anyone else could dream of doing something so horrible. 

Amélie’s phoned  _ ping _ ed, and she groaned, lazily searching through her bag and squinting at her bright phone. 

It was from an unknown number, though Amélie got the feeling the person texting her was so unknown.

_ So, for informational purposes, was that child that Reaper killed *really* that much of an angel? ;) _

Amélie sighed. Why did Sombra want to know the inherent likeability of an eleven-year-old? But she was too tired to pry, so she simply texted back her opinion. 

_ He climbed four desks, landed a spitball in my hair, and somehow climbed out of a window onto a roof during a fire drill. I blame it on the parents. They seemed generally apathetic about their son’s death, for some reason. _

Her phone pinged again.

_ Interesting. Thanks for the info, Amélie. _

Her phone glitched out and the conversation erased itself, but she really couldn’t bring herself to care. Is this what Lena felt like all the time? Apathy verging on insane depression? She barely even flinched when she heard the window sliding open, it was probably just Lena. If not, then it was a talon agent coming to murder her, which to be honest with herself, she would be fine with at this point. 

“Amé? Are you home, luv?”

Ah, so it was Lena. 

Amélie’s ears followed the sound of tracers footsteps as the talon agent discovered her... lover? The title of the relationship was still clouded, and Amélie wasn't sure if she preferred it that way anymore.

“Amélie... a-are you alright. I heard what Reaper did and... I’m... sorry?” Lena seemed to be genuinely trying to apologize on her... coworker’s behalf. It was a little endearing. Just a little. 

Amélie sat up, turning to face Lena, whose glowing blue eyes partially illuminated a bouquet of flowers that she seemed to be clutching tightly. She was mildly surprised that the other woman hadn’t crushed.

“I... got you some flowers. Maybe they’ll make you feel a little better?” Lena smiled awkwardly in the emotionless way Amélie had grown accustomed too. It was the thought that counted.

Amélie took the flowers gently from Lena’s hands, standing up and heading to the kitchen to put them into a vase. They were red and blue roses. Love and mystery. Amélie almost laughed. They seemed fitting for the situation. 

Lena flipped on a light, hugging Amélie around the waist as she mumbled, “have you eaten anything?”

Amélie shook her head, “I was thinking of just ordering a pizza,” she told Lena. 

“Sounds good. Personally I have no preference,” she made a mild attempt at a joke. 

Amélie rolled her eyes, grabbing her phone and ordering a pizza as Lena kissed her face, her touch perpetually cool. Sometimes how cold her skin was concerned Amélie, but she showed no signs of being any the worse for wear because of it.

As soon as Amélie was done with the phone, Lena spun and starting kissing the parts of Amélie’s face that she couldn’t reach before, causing a smile to trace across Amélie’s lips

“You’re adorable sometimes, Lena.”

And for the rest of the night, everything almost seemed okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be grateful. I was originally going to shoot Amelie too.


End file.
